


Instinctual

by mariana_oconnor



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Body Horror, Cap Wolf, Comic Book Science, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Werewolf Steve Rogers, Wolf pollen, it's like sex pollen only it turns you into a wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariana_oconnor/pseuds/mariana_oconnor
Summary: The true effects of the super soldier serum are top secret. Only a few people know the truth - the serum turned Steve Rogers into a werewolf. Steve still hasn't found a way to tell Tony, even though they've been in a relationship for months. He can't bring himself to explain that he's a monster.But when they are clearing out an AIM base, that decision is taken out of his hands.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 393
Collections: Stony Loves Steve 2020





	Instinctual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DepressingGreenie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressingGreenie/gifts).



> There were a lot of really amazing prompts in [DepressingGreenie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressingGreenie/profile)'s suggestions for this exchange, so I hope they'll forgive me for sort of... combining a few of them.
> 
> The real heart of this story is the prompt: Capwolf wants hugs and Tony, but I played with a few ideas from others. There is no sex pollen, but Steve does get drugged with something that lowers his inhibitions, after a fashion. And the super soldier serum made him a werewolf, not a vampire, like your other prompt. Oh... and there's a bath scene in there, just because. :D I hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it. It was great to have an excuse to write Capwolf. Thank you for the brilliant prompts.
> 
> Also, many thanks go to [Rambles](http://ramblesrantsmusings.tumblr.com) who betaed this for me and helped it make actual sense. Any mistakes which remain are entirely my own.

Steve has become accustomed to public nudity. Steve has become accustomed to a lot. The serum brought so many benefits that he feels ungrateful when he dwells on the… less helpful side effects. But despite the fact that it’s kept him alive, despite the fact that it’s made him stronger, he can’t deny that the payment for those benefits is immense.

He can still taste the raw meat in his mouth. Luckily it no longer makes him gag, but it’s there, stuck between his teeth, coating his tongue, iron-rich and sour. His human taste buds do not have the taste for it that the wolf’s do. It’s one of the many parts of this that are not  _ so bad _ when taken apart, but which wear on him when put together.

The room he sits in is devoid of anything he could destroy or use to hurt himself. They had learnt that the hard way the first month. They had left him with a bed, a toilet and a basin. By the morning, there had only been shards of what used to be, and a growing puddle from the broken pipes that Steve had lapped at with his wolf tongue - he knows that from the videos they had recorded, the videos he had insisted on seeing after the cuts he had been covered in had healed themselves.

All he ever remembers from the full moon nights is an urge rising within him - an urge to hunt. It hadn’t used to be so bad, back when he’d just woken up, still thawing from the ice, but it seems like every month it gets stronger, that need to chase. It lingers afterwards, even when his claws are fingers again and the fangs have sunk back into his skull, after his bones have broken and reformed themselves into human shape once more. He can feel it now, like an itch deep inside of him - a part of him that is always the wolf.

He can see fresh new scratch marks on the door, adding to those already there. It is thick, metal, hard wearing, added after the one time he had escaped. He still feels guilty for the two agents he’d put in the hospital as SHIELD had rounded him up to prevent him from leaving. At least he hadn’t bitten anyone.

It’s just three nights, though. Three nights a month when he needs to take precautions, and the rest of the time, he is better than he has ever been. Three nights is a small price to pay for the ability to save the people who need saving. He realises that he’s digging his fingernails into the bare skin of his thighs and forces his hands to relax before he draws blood. Steve draws in a deep breath and lets it out again, concentrating on the breathing techniques the SHIELD therapist has given him, for this specific purpose.

He takes the wolf, what is left of it, howling in the back of his mind, and pushes it down again, locks it back in its box where it can’t hurt anyone, and reminds himself that he is human, he is not subject to those base urges. He is not a wild animal. He does not cause pain without reason and he never crosses that line, the line he feels the wolf clawing at. On the other side of it lies madness.

It is Sharon who opens the door today. She holds out a pair of sweatpants and a glass of water and sets them down, offering him a small smile. Steve returns it, aware that he is blushing. He will never not blush at the idea of a lady seeing him like this, although most of the embarrassment is gone. He waits until she has politely closed the door again before he stands and crosses over, pulling on the sweatpants and downing the water, swishing it around his mouth to try to clean that raw taste away. Then he sets his shoulders, draws in another deep breath, and opens the door, telling himself he is ready to face the world.

All his belongings are still in his locker, where he left them three days ago. He grabs his washbag and towel and heads into the showers, turning the water up as hot as it will go and letting it sluice over him, burning away the lingering muscle memory of the wrong muscles.

He does not remember what happens on the full moon, but his body does.

Steve scrubs with the determined efficiency of routine. He does not linger over any part of himself, just rubs away the last few days as quickly as he can until his skin is pink and fresh and doesn’t feel the prickle of fur across it.

He brushes his teeth twice over, flooding his mouth with mint to wash out that taste. That, too, is methodical. It’s almost a ritual now, this cleansing of the morning after. He brushes them section by section, aware that these teeth are not the same ones that had torn the raw steak apart the night before, but yet they are.

Top right, top middle, top left, and back to top right again, scrubbing from every angle.

He flosses, he rinses, he brushes once round again to make sure, then he drinks a bottle of water, cold against the mint fresh nerves of his mouth, and looks himself in the mirror.

There is no hiding the fact he has barely slept in three days - longer than that if you include the mission beforehand. His eyes are bloodshot, the bags below them dark, his hair a wet mess. He looks worn down and worn out, not as bad as a baseline human would be after three days with no sleep, but not healthy.

Tony’s going to worry. If Tony’s even there tonight. He’s been away a lot recently, which has been good for Steve’s secrets, but unpleasant for every other reason.

Part of him hopes Tony is away again today, because there will be no explanations or fussing. Part of him hopes Tony is waiting for him, because he doesn’t want to be alone.

He pulls on his clothes again, his skin oversensitive to the stiff denim of the jeans, and steps outside. Sharon is waiting again, looking at him.

“How did it go?” he asks. She raises an eyebrow.

“He went for the hinges,” Sharon said. “He’s smart.”

“What?” Steve asks. He hadn’t even noticed that when he’d been looking at the scratch marks on the door.

“They held up fine - the whole door is reinforced with the strongest materials SHIELD has,” she assures him. “But he’s realised that just going after the door isn’t going to work.”

“He’s a wolf,” Steve says. “How smart can he be?”

“He’s you,” Sharon says and Steve can’t help the way his face twists at the reminder. She sighs.

“Steve, I’ve been reading Erskine’s notes,” she says. “This isn’t what he thought would happen.”

“He also didn’t think he’d be shot dead immediately after I was hit with the serum,” Steve says, his voice tight. “I guess he didn’t know everything.”

“His notes say that man and wolf should be in harmony,” Sharon tells him. Steve forces the anger back down again.

“I can’t,” he says. “I can feel how much it wants to be free. I can feel how much it longs to hunt. That’s why it’s trying to get out, Sharon. It wants to run and hunt and pursue.” He turns to look at her and sees the unhappy pull of her mouth. “It’s getting worse.”

“Which is why I think that maybe you need-”

“I need to go home,” Steve says. “I need to sleep.”

“Fine,” she says, crossing her arms. “I’m just trying to help.”

“There’s nothing to help with,” Steve tells her, turning his phone on to see fifteen unread messages, almost every single one from Tony. He smiles. “This is working,” he tells her.

“Until you’re stuck on a mission over a full moon and we can’t get you out of there in time.”

It’s a thought Steve has had many times, over and over again. It’s a thought that wakes him up in the night, sweat cold on his skin, his breathing quick. He knows it’s a possibility. He has dreamt of sinking wolf teeth into human flesh, unable to stop himself. He knows it could happen, but they’re managing it. There are protocols in place.

But all it would take is one slip up.

“Am I being benched?” he asks. She looks startled.

“Of course not, Steve. I haven’t spoken to anyone about this but you, I just… I think you should look into some sort of… I don’t know… guided meditation? Or maybe you could find an outlet for him.”

“An outlet... for the wolf?” he asks. She nods.

“If you could relieve those urges in a safe environment, maybe it would release the pressure.”

Steve considers it for a moment. It’s an interesting idea, but the idea of letting the wolf out, even a little bit, chills him to the bone. He knows the kind of monster it is, clawing at the inside of him. If he releases it, even a little, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

“I’ll think about it,” he says and Sharon purses her lips, clearly not believing him, because she’s smart like that. He gives her a smile. “Thanks for your concern.”

“I’m giving you two months,” she says. “You said it was getting worse. If you can’t come up with something to make it better in two months, then I’m going to talk to Fury.”

Steve’s instinctive reaction is anger, he can feel the wolf growling deep inside him. How dare she threaten him? How dare she?

He pushes it down, forcing his brain to take control of his instincts. Sharon is being reasonable, he is a danger and she is within her rights to be concerned about this. He nods, sharp and precise.

“Understood,” he says.

“I don’t want to do that,” Sharon tells him, reaching out to touch his arm. The touch makes him tense all over. “Please sort this out, Steve.”

He nods again, resisting the urge to pull out of her grasp, but she lets go before he does, and Steve says goodbye, then sets off, walking at double pace, the need to be  _ home _ overwhelming. He hates this facility. It’s dark and clean and dismal, full of people in uniform with guns in their holsters, all busy, all important, all utterly professional.

He wants to be curled up on their huge sofa with Tony, eating pasta and watching the stupid sappy films that Tony claims only to watch because he doesn’t want to bias Steve’s experience of the twenty first century, but secretly loves. He wants to be warm and comfortable and himself, not a freak of nature in a secret underground government base, where he is under constant surveillance from cameras and agents alike.

Steve readjusts his bag on his shoulder as he heads into the garage and finds his motorbike, swinging himself onto it with ease. The feel of it between his legs and the thrum of the engine as he starts it is comfortingly familiar. The bike he and Tony had built together, like his old one, but better. The bike he’d laughed, cried and bled into.

It feels like a part of his home, and he breathes in deep, taking in the scent of the motor oil, gasoline and grease, and a thick thread of Tony that’s as deeply imprinted into it as he is. 

His phone rings again in his pocket and he pulls it out to answer it, not needing to look at the screen to know it’s Tony.

“JARVIS said you were back on the grid,” Tony says. “And you haven’t called me yet! Rude, Rogers. That’s just rude.”

“Debriefing,” Steve lies, feeling the usual pang of guilt he will never be immune to. “I was just about to leave actually.”

“Is that an ‘I was just about to leave’ as in ‘I’m going to be here another three hours because SHIELD is full of annoying people who don’t understand that you have more important things to do - i.e. me,’ or an ‘I was just about to leave’ as in ‘you were actually just about to leave and then I phoned and now the only thing keeping you from getting back home is ironically me asking when you’re going to be back home’?”

“The second one,” Steve says, a soft smile curling over his face.

“Shit,” Tony says.

“It’s good to hear your voice,” he says. It is. It feels soothing. “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“Then get off the phone and get back here,” Tony says. “Then you won’t have to miss me any more. Problem solved.”

*

Steve doesn’t technically break any traffic laws on his way home, but he’s definitely pushing the limits of a few of them. The feeling of the wind rushing past as he hurtles through the streets appeases some of that need to chase that is still ebbing away inside him and by the time he makes it back to the tower where Tony is waiting for him, he feels almost human. He’s glad for that, because he never wants Tony to find out about it. He doesn’t want to expose him to that side of him. Steve has always struggled to be the best boyfriend he can, as considerate and gentle as possible. He and SHIELD have worked out a random schedule just so that Tony is less likely to notice that Steve’s never spent a full moon with him. Some months he heads to the facility early, some months he comes back late, some of the worst months, he does both and paces the halls of SHIELD’s clinical grey hellscape until he can finally give up the pretence and return home.

Tony’s waiting for him, sipping a cup of coffee and poring over his tablet. It could be the designs for a machine that will change the world, or it could be some online comic. It might even be his Twitter feed, although Tony looks too relaxed for that.

“Hey handsome,” Tony says, looking up at him with that smile. “You look tired.”

“Yeah, it was a long one,” Steve says. It feels true, at least. And as long as he doesn’t specify what he’s talking about, it is true. He doesn’t want to lie to Tony.

“How about I take you into that obscenely large bathtub of mine that you pretend to hate and pamper you a bit?” Tony asks.

“I had a shower at-”

“You mean you ducked your head under the water and scrubbed yourself over with a SHIELD-issued loofah,” Tony says, wrinkling his nose.

“SHIELD don’t actually have their own loofahs,” Steve points out, smiling for what feels like the first time in weeks. Tony grins back.

“Which just makes my point more relevant.” He comes over and hooks his arms round Steve’s neck, pulling him down into a soft kiss that feels like a breath of fresh air after drowning. Tony pulls away, looking at him askance. “You smell like wet dog.”

For a heartstopping moment Steve thinks that this is the moment when Tony will realise, when his lightning-fast brain will put together the clues and come to the correct conclusion. He’s seen him make more ridiculous connections with less information.

But there is no eureka moment on Tony’s face as he laces their fingers together and pulls Steve towards the bathroom.

“I had JARVIS run the bath as soon as you arrived in the garage,” he says. “It should be just about ready.

The bathroom smells of something fruity and expensive and steam rolls out of it as the door opens. The tub itself is full of bubbles and Steve almost laughs. He is sagging with exhaustion and every step seems a mile, but Tony’s a solid presence at his side, one arm wrapped around him and his hand making soothing stroking motions against Steve’s ribs.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes,” Tony says, turning. Steve smiles right back.

“You’ve got a one-track mind,” he says, but he obediently lets Tony strip him layer by layer until he’s standing bare in front of him.

“If that one-track mind is getting the tension out of those magnificently patriotic shoulders of yours, then I plead guilty.”

“You’re sure you don’t have any… ulterior motives, Mr Stark?” Steve asks, raising one eyebrow.

“Not when you’re dead on your feet, love,” Tony tells him, leaning forwards to kiss Steve right in the middle of his chest. “Now, slip into the tub and let me take care of you, alright?”

“You know I’m capable of washing myself,” Steve says, but he steps into the bath anyway. It’s the perfect temperature, only just cool enough not to burn, and he sinks right into it, closing his eyes at the sensation of the bubbles and the water sliding over his skin.

“This could not be less about hygiene,” Tony tells him and there’s the crack of a lid opening and a slick sound as Tony’s hands rub together, then fingers are finding their way into Steve’s hair, deep and hard, massaging his scalp as they work the shampoo in.

He always feels more tactile after the full moon, but he can’t summon the energy to be ashamed right now. He knows he’ll feel it tomorrow, that shard of self-recrimination because he might as well be wagging his tail right now, and as Tony rinses out the shampoo he might as well be petting him.

But it feels good, and there is no rage or need to hunt right now, so Steve enjoys the feeling of Tony’s hands stroking along his body, easing out the tension until Steve feels like he’s as liquid as the water he’s lying in.

“Okay, I’m not strong enough to pick you up, so you’re going to have to climb out yourself, you great lug,” Tony says, but there’s a smile in his tone.

“You could get the suit,” Steve suggests.

“I could…” Tony agrees. “Or you could just… climb right on out.”

“Fine,” Steve says, levering himself up. The air is cold against his wet skin and he shivers for a second. “But I’m going to remember this the next time you pretend to fall asleep on the couch so I’ll carry you to bed.”

“Lies and slander,” Tony claims, but he’s smiling and holding out a huge blue fluffy towel that Steve knows he had made especially for him.

“Mmhm,” Steve agrees as Tony wraps the towel around him. “You know I can hear the difference in your breathing when you’re really asleep, right?”

“You and your freaky super hearing,” Tony says and Steve has to fight not to let himself wince at that. “Come on, honeybug. Off to bed with you, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

Steve lets Tony tug him from the room and pulls on the pair of sweatpants that are already laid out for him, the ones with the little shields on them, because Tony has very little shame. They curl up on the bed and Steve can feel the weight of his fatigue dragging him down into sleep.

*

When he wakes, Tony isn’t there, a huge empty space beside him, made only more obvious by the size of Tony’s bed, far too big for two people. Steve stares at the place where Tony should be and tells himself it doesn’t mean anything.

He knows it’s hard, with him being off on SHIELD missions and having to spend at least three nights a month… indisposed. He knows that Tony knows Steve is keeping something from him, but that he suspects it’s SHIELD related. Steve knows that a healthy relationship shouldn’t be built on lies. He shouldn’t even have started this thing without telling Tony everything. But he had just wanted one thing that wasn’t tainted by this  _ thing _ inside him. He had wanted to be a normal man in love with someone.

But he isn’t a normal man, he’s Captain America. A fact he’s reminded of when the Avengers alarm starts blaring out, too loud for his sensitive hearing.

He can put on the suit blindfolded these days, so he doesn’t bother to turn the light on. The moon outside is still big enough to provide light, though Steve avoids looking at it. It feels too much like a taunt.

He can talk to Tony later, Steve tells himself. He pretends that he doesn’t feel relieved at having the decision taken out of his hands.

*

“It’s some sort of research facility,” Maria Hill says, handing over the tablet to Steve. “It’s been on our radar for a while, but last night there was an energy spike and two people ended up dead nearby. It looks like they just stepped up from ‘people of interest’ to ‘problem’.”

“Do we know who’s running it?” Steve asks, scrolling down the screen, his brain taking in the information as it goes past.”

“AIM,” Tony says, his voice heavy with the exasperation of the long suffering. “Of course it’s AIM. I thought we put them to bed last time.”

“Apparently not all of them,” Maria says, and she looks as put off about it as he does. “Whatever they’re doing in there is dangerous and is putting innocent lives at risk. We need you to go in, take control of the facility and incapacitate the people working there.”

“Incapacitate?” Steve repeats, because he likes things to be a bit clearer than that.

“We’d like to ask them some questions,” Maria says. “But given that AIM’s last project involved human bombs we’re not entirely optimistic about your odds of getting everyone out of there alive. Capture if possible, neutralise if necessary, Captain. Is that a problem?”

“No ma’am,” he says, knowing that she hears the gruff tone in his voice.

“What happened to the people who died?” Natasha asks from behind Steve. “Was it Extremis?”

“Not unless Extremis has changed considerably since last time we saw it,” Maria tells her and taps at something on her own tablet. A picture comes up on Steve’s screen, and probably everyone else’s as well from the noises of disgust Clint is making.

The body is… mostly there. Steve thinks. His anatomy study is mostly artistic, not medical and he rarely draws internal organs.

“What the fuck does something like that?” Tony asks. “You think they’re experimenting on animals now?”

“Perhaps,” Maria says. “But be prepared for anything.”

“Right,” Clint says. “So I should bring the swimming trunks and the ski jacket, is what you’re saying.”

“To put it simply, yes,” Maria says. She doesn’t roll her eyes, but Steve can tell it’s difficult for her. “You have all the information we have.”

Steve scrolls down to the list of things that have been brought into the facility - steroids and an assortment of sedatives, which would seem to be rather conflicting things to buy, but then it’s AIM, so who knows.

“Iron Man, Black Widow,” he says. “You’re our best bet at getting access to their research. I want to know what we’re dealing with as soon as possible.”

“If they’ve got Wi-Fi, I just need to be in the building to get in,” Tony says.

“Then that’s on you. We’re going to sweep the building. Black Widow and I will enter on the ground floor, you take Hawkeye and start up top. We’re going in at night, so hopefully they’ll only have a skeleton crew in there, but don’t get sloppy.”

“Would I ever?” Clint asks. Steve shoots him a firm look, but Clint just grins back. “Got it, Cap. I’ll watch your boyfriend’s ass, I swear.”

“I never knew you were interested, Birdboy,” Tony shoots back and Steve finds himself swallowing down a roll of possessiveness that sweeps over him. It’s just Tony and Clint, he reminds himself. They’re always like this. It doesn’t  _ mean _ anything. ”

“SHIELD can hold the perimeter,” he says and Maria nods. “Bruce, you’ll stay outside with command until we’ve secured the scene.”

“Or we need to declare a code green,” Tony says.

“Hopefully we won’t have to,” Steve says. They all remember last time they had to call a code green on a mission inside a building. Well, all of them except Clint, who doesn’t remember anything after a falling building hit him in the head.

“Hopefully,” Bruce agrees.

“But once we’ve secured things, there might be data or compounds in there that you would be able to help with,” Steve points out. Bruce gives him a smile and nods. “Is everyone on board with that?”

“Captain, my Captain,” Tony’s voice purrs in his ear as everyone else states their affirmative. He knows that Tony’s speaking over a private comm-link, but it never fails to make him awkward when Tony uses that voice when everyone else is  _ right there _ . “You know I like it when you use that voice.”

Steve looks directly at the Iron Man helmet, and he doesn’t need to see Tony’s face to be able to see the smirk he’s wearing underneath it, then he very deliberately rolls his eyes.

*

AIM doesn’t know they’re coming. It’s almost embarrassingly easy to get into the building and Steve foolishly wishes that all missions were this simple.

The facility is large; like an iceberg, ninety percent of it is below ground and Steve and Natasha descend into the labyrinthine tunnels, finding them all but empty, at first.

On the third basement level, they find signs of life. Barracks of people struggling into their yellow beekeeper costumes and swarming out of doors, coming to the party too late, but determined to make a difference. Half asleep and unprepared, most of them go down easily, but a few… a few of them have to make things more difficult.

Natasha is pinning one to the ground as Steve bends a metal bar around the door handle to one of the barrack rooms, trapping others inside.

The noise startles them both and Steve is throwing his shield before he realises what is happening. The yellow figure ducks under it as they run and it spins back to Steve’s hand without hitting anything. He sighs.

“You get him,” Natasha says. “I’ll clear up here.”

“I guess I hadn’t got my cardio in for today, yet,” Steve says, hooking his shield back onto his arm. He gives her a little salute and starts to run.

Running… Steve had never been able to run before the serum, not really run. His body had reneged any time he tried. His breath had used to choke in his chest, his muscles had protested and his bones had never balanced properly. Even his brain had started to pulse, making the world spin as his blood pressure picked up. No, running had not been for him.

But now, stretching his legs into long paces, flying down the corridors, careening off walls as he takes the corners, he feels like this was what he was made for. He leaps over the obstacles his quarry has pushed into his way, gurneys and fallen boxes, sometimes kicking one foot against the wall to propel him even further. There is no burning in his chest, no aching in his limbs.

This is what he enjoys, though he still feels guilty for it. Apart from his work as a superhero, this alone would perhaps have been worth it. The ability to run like this, free and far and fast. The sheer joy of movement.

He takes a corner far too fast and his shield leaves a dent, cracks radiating out, as he pushes himself back on track.

The AIM goon slams another door in his face, so Steve moves his shield in front of him, not breaking his step. Tony likes to call it his ‘human-battering-ram’ move. At this speed, most doors just sort of… surrender... or fly off their hinges, depending on how well made they are. This one… does not.

240lb of unstoppable force at 70mph meets the solid, reinforced-carbon-steel immovable object, and if it wasn’t for the properties of vibranium, Steve would definitely have some broken bones. As it is, the shield bounces right off, sending him skidding backwards.

“ _ Almost past their secondary encryption _ ,” Tony’s voice says in his ear. “ _ They’re definitely getting better at this. I might need to give them a gold star. _ ”

“ _ No training the enemy to be better at crime _ ,” Clint responds immediately. “ _ Even I know that one Stark _ .”

“ _ Like you’ve ever paid attention to that _ .”

“ _ Is it bad that I want an actual challenge once in a while? _ ” Tony asks. Steve rolls his eyes as he assesses the door in front of him. He hopes the impact hasn't broken the lock to the point where he can’t open it. That would be a mess. It’s clearly reinforced and there’s a keypad next to it with a bright red light blinking at the top of it. There’s no clear wear on the numbers, so he can’t make a guess. He doesn’t even know how long the code would be anyway.

“ _ I for one, enjoy rounding up incompetent idiots _ ,” Clint says.

“ _ I’m with Hawkeye on this one _ ,” Natasha replies. “ _ Although this did feel insultingly easy, even for AIM. _ ”

“ _ That’s what I mean _ ,” Tony replies. “ _ It’s like they’re not even trying. _ ”

Steve sighs.

“First, less chatter please, guys. Second, Iron Man, if you have access to their systems, could you open this door for me? Third, with decent planning everything gets easier. It’s not that they’re incompetent, it’s that we are more competent.”

“ _ In my experience, plan is just another word for wishful thinking _ ,” Clint says.

“ _ When did you last plan anything? _ ” Natasha asks. Steve ignores them both, waiting for Tony.

“ _ Of course, beloved, _ ” he says, and Steve hears a sound that is definitely Tony blowing a kiss. He rolls his eyes again and looks up towards the camera in the corner of the corridor, trying to look strict rather than indulgent. “ _ Your wish is my command, sugarbritches _ .”

“ _ Chatter! _ ” Natasha says.

“ _ I don’t remember sugarbritches being on the list of codenames, _ ” Clint says. “ _ If we’re changing things up can I be ‘his almighty awesomeness’?”  _ Clint yelps. He’s clearly fighting something, because he sounds out of breath, but he doesn’t sound injured, so Steve lets it go. He trusts his team.

“ _ Sorry, Thor’s got first dibs on that one, but I think ‘dumbass’ is still going spare _ ,” Tony replies. “ _ Here you go, Captain Handsome. Never say I don’t do anything for you. _ ” The light besides the door turns green with a joyful little beep and the door slides open.

“I’d never say that,” Steve promises. “You do lots of things for me.”

“ _ That’s what she said _ ,” Clint says, his voice heavy with innuendo. Steve ignores him and steps into the room beyond the door.

He moves more cautiously now, partially because any room in a secret evil laboratory that is guarded by a reinforced door is probably not going to be full of blankets. But also because… well. Now he’s inside he can see pipes and vats and glass fronted fridges filled with little vials. Rows and rows of the stuff.

“ _ That’s a dead end, Cap, _ ” Tony says. “ _ The guy you’re chasing has to be in there somewhere _ .”

Steve nods, hoping Tony can hear him. He doesn’t want to give away his position by being too loud. He takes every step as carefully as he can, quieter than a ghost, and he takes in a deep breath, listening carefully.

Wolves hunt by smell. At first, when he’d come through the serum he had thought that this was just what every normal person smelt all the time. He’d thought it was normal to be able to smell when people were scared or aroused. Before the serum he’d had problems with pretty much every sense, so it made sense to him that this was just what the world smelt like if you didn’t have a fucked up olfactory system.

But apparently not. After some very awkward conversations, he’d figured out that smell was one of those things that most people did not think about most of the time. A really bad smell, like a garbage truck, or a really good smell like fresh baked cookies - those got people’s attention, but the everyday scents that surrounded Steve, they didn’t even register to most people.

Sometimes he wishes he could paint them, or describe them at least, but the English language is lacking in words for smell and there is no visual component to them. It’s just that there are… layers. He can smell the chemicals around him, though he does not have words to describe them. He can smell the metallic sharpness of the steel around him, and his own scent as well, and then, beyond that, he can smell fear and  _ person _ and the thick acrid rubber smell of an AIM beekeeper suit. 

Fear makes your smell stronger, as does exercise, so the AIM person’s stink is strong and unmistakable.

Steve can follow it with barely any effort at all. Like a damned drug dog.

He takes another breath to calm that spike of anger that comes through him at the thought, which only serves to flood his nostrils with the smell again.

Underneath the smell he can scent other things, older things. There are many people who come in here every day, people who work with machines and chemicals. And underneath that, there is a smell that is familiar somehow, a smell like  _ him _ , and he can’t work out what it is.

He readies his shield in front of him. The rest of the team are still chattering away over the comms. He’d tell them off, but if he speaks, he’ll give his position away.

“ _ I’ve decrypted their files _ ,” Tony says. “ _ Bruce have a look at this data. _ ”

The scent in Steve’s nose is getting stronger. He’s close. He turns a corner past a whole load of pipes that descend from the ceiling like a column and a glass-fronted freezer filled with vials of a silvery looking liquid that smells almost like moonlight - if moonlight had a smell.

“ _ Bruce, are you seeing what I’m seeing? _ ” Tony asks.

“ _ I think so _ ,” Bruce replies. He sounds almost confused, which is not a tone that Steve associates with Bruce.

“ _ I always knew AIM were crazy, but I never thought- _ ” Tony breaks off.

“ _ Hey, Team Rocket, before you go blasting off again, care to share with the group? _ ” Clint asks. Steve is grateful for his bluntness when he himself can’t cut through Tony’s muttering science talk.

“ _ Sorry _ ,” Bruce says. “ _ It’s just that these notes are… difficult to believe _ .”

“ _ Impossible to believe _ ,” Tony says.

“ _ It looks like they are experimenting with- _ ”

“ _ Lycanthropy, _ ” Tony says, unable to hold it in any longer. Steve freezes. “ _ They’re trying to make fucking werewolves. _ ”

Steve tries to swallow, but his throat is thick and tight and he can’t get the muscles to work properly.

“ _ From the looks of the research, I’d say they’ve succeeded, _ ” Bruce says. Steve sniffs again, concentrating on that underlying familiar scent, and they’re right, the reason it’s so familiar is that it’s  _ him _ . That smell is werewolf.

“ _ Werewolves are real… _ ” Clint says. “ _ Huh. I wonder… there was this guy I dated a few years back who… that would explain a lot. _ ”

“ _ Werewolves are not real, _ ” Tony says. “ _ They make no sense. Conservation of matter, conservation of energy, not to mention that the whole idea is utterly preposterous. _ ”

“ _ Because the other guy makes so much sense based on the laws of physics, _ ” Bruce says. Tony doesn’t have an answer to that. “ _ But if I were you, I’d make sure that you don’t let anyone or anything in there bite you _ .”

Steve’s blood runs cold.

“ _ It’s not a full moon tonight, right? _ ” Clint says.

“ _ Full moon was two nights ago _ ,” Natasha tells him.

“ _ That was quick, Tasha. Sure you’re not hiding a hairy little secret? _ ” Clint asks.

“ _ I’m not sure the full moon will matter much, _ ” Bruce says and Steve’s heart skips a beat, which shouldn’t even be possible anymore. “ _ It looks like that’s the second part of their research. They’ve been looking for a way to make the transformation more… controllable _ .”

“ _ Are you telling me that any of these prisoners could just… turn into wolves? _ ” Natasha asks and Steve holds his breath waiting for the response.

“ _ No, _ ” Tony says. “ _ The control is chemical. They’re experimenting with different compounds to see which is most effective. _ ”

Steve slowly turns his head to look into the nearest refrigerator at those little vials of silver liquid. The labels on the side all say ‘LYC-3.2 Batch 7’.

“ _ As long as no werewolves inhale or inject anything, we should be fine _ ,” Bruce says.

Steve can’t quite stifle the rueful chuckle at that before he remembers that he’s not supposed to be making any noise.

He was right about the AIM guy being nearby. He must hear Steve’s chuckle. He darts out from behind a rack of worrying looking medical equipment and Steve barely has time to raise his shield as the gun pointed at him goes off. The bullet bounces off the vibranium surface and ricochets off. There is a smash of broken glass and a hissing noise and Steve already knows what he’s going to see when he slowly pulls his shield down.

One of the refrigerators a little further down has its front smashed open and the bullet must have hit the contents because a cloud of silvery liquid is spilling out in plumes.

“You said inhale, right?” he asks over the comms, looking over at the AIM guy, who seems to have noticed the problem as well and is looking back at him, gun still raised.

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Tony says. “ _ What’s the- Steve, what’s going on?” _

“Lock the door to this room,” Steve says. He’s too close, he doesn’t know how fast the gas will travel and while he’s pretty sure the guy he was following is not a werewolf based on smell alone, he knows that he definitely is.

“ _ What? Steve… no. You’re in there with one of them, _ ” Tony says, because he always argues when Steve wishes he would just agree.

“And there are more of them out there. Lock it down! That’s an order Avenger,” Steve says.

“ _ On it _ ,” Natasha tells him.

Steve smells it on the air, thick, rich and silvery, like moonlight turned into gas. He knows it’s already too late. He should have run when he first saw it, but…

Something must happen to his face, because the scent of fear spikes and the AIM goon tries to run. Steve wants to tell Natasha to let him out first, but he can’t. The bones of his jaw are already cracking and reshaping themselves. He can feel the prickle of fur pushing through his skin, like he’s being turned inside out. His heart is starting to pick up, to chase itself, thudding against a rib cage that is expanding.

The pain, he is used to, but he can’t help but grunt with it as he feels his leg bones stretch, dragging muscle, sinew and skin with them, stretching out beyond what should be possible.

His hands spasm as they turn to paws and claws spike out from his fingertips.

His tail erupts from the base of his spine, caught in the heavy duty fabric that Tony designed specifically to be unbreakable, although it is splitting down its seams as Steve  _ expands _ .

He can feel his mind flowing away from him and he tries to grab hold of it, to stay human, like he always does, but his reason is ebbing away, replaced by instinct and need and Steve throws back his head and howls, becoming the wolf once more.

*

The world is metal and chemical and moonlight. He can scent a hunt on the wind. 

Something heavy weighs down his front leg, metal with a strange scent to it, familiar and  _ his _ but unwieldy and holding him back. He shakes his leg until it falls back to the ground and stretches out his body.

His prey is running. He can smell their fear on the air, it is thick and full and intoxicating. He can hear their heartbeat and he follows that and their smell, his stride stretching out.

It has been so long since he could run like this, so long since there was any space. This place is new, it is not the cold metal hard place he has been confined to before. It is still cold metal, but it is bigger, with new obstacles, with new smells, with new  _ prey _ .

He howls again, and relishes in the fear that spikes at the sound. The prey is ripe for hunting.

He finds it against one of the walls, banging against it as though that will help. He can hear its heartbeat so fast and loud that it echoes his own as it wails out in words the wolf thinks he should understand.

He does not leap immediately. The chase had been over too fast, far too short to slake his need to run and hunt. But the scent of fear is strong and he knows that this is his enemy.

He prowls from side to side, blocking them in, snarling as they turn to look at him. Their voice is high and loud with fear. The smell of urine mingles with their fear and he growls again. They should be afraid. They have threatened him. They have threatened his  _ pack _ .

He prepares himself to leap.

*

It is not a comfortable thing to see your lover turn into a wolf, even if it is through a video camera. Tony’s mouth is open to speak, but no sound comes out as he watches Steve’s body contort and break, snapping into a different shape, more animal, more jagged.

That should not be possible.

“That’s not possible,” he says out loud, as though saying it will stop it from happening. As though Tony can change the facts simply by stating that they cannot be. But it is still happening. Steve’s uniform is ripping down its seams as he watches. Fur is sprouting along his skin and Tony can’t imagine how painful it must be as he sees Steve’s  _ skull _ elongate. “The chemicals shouldn’t create werewolves,” he says, more to try to reassure himself than from any sort of desire to be heard. “He can’t have… the files we found indicated that they just… they just…”

“ _ Maybe stop telling us how impossible it is, and start actually telling us what it is, _ ” Clint suggests.

“Steve’s…” Tony says. He sees the AIM scientist run, and he knows that it will be in vain.

“ _ Steve just turned into a wolf, _ ” Natasha says, sounding entirely unsurprised by the words, but then Tony doesn’t know if she’s ever surprised by anything.

“ _ This isn’t good _ ,” Bruce says.

“This is bad,” Tony counters. “This is very, very bad.” He’s torn. He has to  _ go there _ , because Steve is - well, Steve is prowling around his trapped prey with the air of a predator playing with his food. But at the same time, he needs answers.

“ _ You’re shitting me, right? _ ” Clint says. “ _ Cap’s a wolf? They turned Cap into a wolf? _ ”

“ _ Tony’s right, that shouldn’t be possible _ ,” Bruce says, and Tony’s so glad that someone else is on his side. But there’s no denying the evidence of his own eyes. He just watched it happen. Just like he’s now watching Steve tear a man apart with his bare… claws? 

“ _ How do we turn him back? _ ” Natasha asks, getting to the crux of the matter.

“ _ I’m looking into it, _ ” Bruce says. “ _ If they’ve managed to aerosolise this, then that’s… releasing that into the general population would be- _ ”

“I’m on my way,” Tony says.

“ _ I don’t think that’s a good idea, _ ” Natasha tells him.

“It’s  _ Steve _ ,” he grinds out through gritted teeth. It’s too late, anyway, he’s already flying, blasting off doors as he goes.

“ _ There’s nothing you can do for him down here, _ ” Natasha says.

“Fuck that,” Tony tells her. He’s not just going to leave Steve like that.

He makes it to the door she’s locked in Steve’s face in record time. JARVIS following the blueprints they’d extracted from the computer system. He can hear Steve howling on the other side, and he’s still got the CCTV feed pulled up in his HUD so he can see him too.

Natasha steps right in front of him, arms crossed as Steve begins to fling himself at the door.

“Tony, that’s not Steve in there. We need to wait this out.”

Tony pulls up the data for the door and has JARVIS analyse Steve’s wolfy form. 

“Not sure we have that option,” Tony tells her. “That door’s not going to hold him for long.” She blinks and Tony can see her reassess the situation, turning from him back to the door.

“He just tore a man apart.”

“The man who did this to him,” Tony says.

“He is clearly angry and dangerous.”

“He’s scared and confused,” Tony says.

“If he attacks you, are you going to be able to take him down?” Natasha asks, her face completely serious.

“ _ Take him down? _ ” Clint asks over the comms. “ _ You’re going to put Cap-wolf to sleep? Aw, Nat. No. I always wanted a dog. _ ”

“He’s not a dog, he’s a wolf,” Natasha says. “We don’t know what was in that compound. It could have been hallucinogenic or affected him in any number of ways. Also, he’s a wolf.”

“He’s Steve,” Tony tells her, stepping forward, the sound of the Iron Man armour against the floor thudding out to echo down the corridor. “We are not killing him.”

“Not kill - disable,” Natasha says.

The door bows out behind her, the force of Steve’s body bending it. They are running out of time.

“ _ Get out of there, you two,” _ Bruce says. “ _ I can shut off that floor, we can trap him in there while we work this out _ .”

“Except there are also several dozen other people on this floor, and while I’m not one to mourn the lives of people who willingly join a terrorist organisation that experiments with pseudoscientific chemical warfare, I don’t think leaving them to be savaged by a wolf is something Steve would want,” Tony says.

“ _ Pretty sure wolves don’t get a vote _ ,” Clint tells them. “ _ Nat… Bruce is right. _ ”

“I’ve got the armour, I’ll be fine,” Tony says, hoping that the armour will stand up to 240lb of super-wolf determined to tear his throat out.

“ _ You need to get Natasha out, _ ” Bruce tells him, being reasonable, because of course he is. Tony grimaces. He knows that Steve would never forgive himself for hurting any of them and Natasha might be good, but even she probably wouldn’t be able to get away from a wolf with the advantages of the super soldier serum.

He extends his hand to her and she steps forwards, looping one arm around his neck and stepping up onto his feet.

“Hold on tight, Charlotte,” he says, casting one last look at the door, which looks to be barely hanging on.  _ Forgive me, Steve _ , he thinks, although he knows Steve wouldn’t even think an apology was necessary.

They start to fly just as there is one, desperate howl and the door to the room  _ clangs _ onto the ground.

Holding onto Natasha means Tony can’t reach his highest speeds, she has no protection against the g-forces and no matter how strong she is, the air resistance would tear her away from him. He’s pretty sure they can outrun a wolf, though.

He’s forced to reevaluate that.

“ _ A little faster would be good, Stark, _ ” Natasha tells him, her voice strained. He can hear the sound of howling behind him, and thuds, as the wolf skids into the wall as they go round a corner. He pushes the repulsors a little further, but the maze of tunnels isn’t exactly great for picking up speed.

“ _ Tony, he’s gaining on you _ ,” Bruce says.

“That is not as helpful as you think,” Tony bites back.

“ _ I thought that suit of yours was good at flying, _ ” Clint says. “ _ Put your fucking back into it, Stark _ .”

There is no Steve to complain about the use of names on the comms, the gap is echoing and obvious to Tony.

He can see the elevator in front of them as he rounds the corner and he starts to accelerate, but it’s too little, too late.

The weight on his feet brings him down to the ground with a crash, wrapping his arms around Natasha to protect her from being crushed.

Alerts leap up, flashing onto the HUD in red as claws rake down the back of the armour, catching on the connections between panels. Nat signals for him to roll off her, preparing her widow’s bites and Tony nods. He does not want to do this.

They roll at the same time, in opposite directions, just as Steve’s claws manage to tear away the calf of the armour’s left leg, leaving Tony’s foot suddenly a lot lighter and a lot colder.

He braces himself, raising the repulsors to aim them as he sees Steve take a great sniff of the air.

He is a giant wolf, almost shoulder height on all fours, his head is twice as big as Tony’s own and the only other signs that he is not, entirely natural, are the colour of his fur - the same straw blond as Steve’s hair, and the blue of his eyes.

His eyes look so like Steve’s that Tony hesitates as that giant head leans down.

He braces for the pain of teeth piercing his skin, powerful jaws snapping shut to break bone and sinew. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he feels the cold press of a nose against the strip of skin exposed at his ankle, and then a hot wet strip across it.

The widow’s bite hits Steve in the neck and he turns with a look of reproach that is undeniably the Captain-America-is-Disappointed-In-You face. He gives a half-hearted growl, then his head descends to nose at Tony’s leg again, slowly sniffing up his leg.

Tony looks over to where Natasha is half-lying, braced against the wall.

“ _ Tony… what’s going on? _ ” Bruce asks. “ _ It looks like he’s… sniffing you _ .”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “That’s… because he is.”

“He must recognise your scent,” Natasha says, lowering her arm.

Steve growls again and Tony’s heart leaps into his throat, but Steve is just pawing at his knee, where the armour is still in place. He bats at it before whining pitifully, his huge blue wolf eyes looking so very sad.

“Okay,” he says. “I think he wants me to take the suit off.”

“ _ Gross Stark, do not do a strip tease for the werewolf _ ,” Clint tells him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Natasha says, at the exact same time as Bruce voices the same sentiment.

“I’m pretty sure if he wanted to hurt me, I’d be hurt already,” Tony says. “It’s fine. It’s Steve… He’s just shaped a little differently.”

He sheds the rest of the armour and Steve hops up, his tail wagging happily. Was that a wolf thing? Tony thought that was just a dog thing, but he guesses dogs are descended from wolves so maybe it’s-

His inner monologue of dog-versus-wolf behaviour is cut off as 240lb of Captain America in wolf form flops across his chest and a giant pink tongue starts to lick at his neck. Tony lies there, staring at the polystyrene tiles of the ceiling in utter confusion at how his life ever ended up like  _ this _ . Then he tentatively brings a hand up to the back of Steve’s neck and sinks his fingers into the thick fur, scratching at it.

Steve’s body begins to rumble, making Tony’s whole body vibrate with it.

“Good boy,” Tony says, a little numbly. “Good boy, Steve.”

“ _ That is more than I ever needed to know about yours and Cap’s relationship _ ,” Clint says. “ _ I’m on my way down. _ ”

“Clint, we don’t know how he’ll react to more people,” Natasha hisses. Steve’s head lifts up to look at her, but seems content to go back to licking Tony’s neck into submission when it appears she isn’t a threat.

“ _ You said he recognised Tony’s scent. He’ll recognise ours as well, _ ” Clint says. “ _ You’re always telling me I stink _ .”

“Because you do,” Tony says. Steve nudges him with his nose, still rumbling and Tony realises that his hands have stopped moving, so he starts to pet Steve's back again. The fur is coarser than he would have expected, on top at least, but the inner layers are soft as his fingers drag through it. It’s… nice. Steve is huge and warm and soft and while Tony could do without the licking - which is very enthusiastic, but lacking the skill and precision his boyfriend’s tongue usually has - it feels nice.

Steve isn’t even resting all his weight on him, like he knows to be careful of Tony’s chest, because that’s what Steve does. Even in wolf form he’s a gentleman. Tony shakes his head.

The elevator dings open and Steve leaps to his feet, bracketing Tony in with his body, snarling as Clint steps out, hands up to each side.

“Woah, Cap,” he says. “It’s just me. Holy shit you’re fucking huge!” 

“Clint,” Natasha says.

“It’s fine,” Clint says. “He’s just a big puppy, aren’t you, Cap?” He grins.

Steve cocks his head, looking at Clint as though he’s a special kind of confusing, then huffs and rearranges himself and Tony until they are essentially spooning, Steve’s wolf form curled up and Tony wound around it, arm held in place by Steve’s very insistent paws.

“So, this is awkward,” Tony says, looking up at Clint.

“I’ve seen you in more compromising positions,” Natasha says and Tony glares at her.

“Huh, is Cap always the little spoon, or is this a wolf thing?” Clint asks. Tony glares at him.

“ _ I’ve got good news and bad news _ ,” Bruce says.

“Bad news first,” Natasha says.

“ _ AIM doesn’t have an antidote. Apparently they hadn’t got that far in their research. _ ”

Tony opens his mouth, feeling despair tumble down onto him.

“ _ Good news - it’s not permanent. It should wear off in four or five days _ .”

“Four or five days?” Tony asks, pushing himself up to look at Steve, who stares up at him with huge blue eyes.

“ _ That’s how long it took on their subjects, with the supersoldier serum there’s no telling whether it will take that long with Steve.” _

“Awesome! Avengers mascot!” Clint says, punching the air.

*

Considering the alternative was Steve ripping their throats out, Tony supposes they got off pretty lightly all things considered, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t a mission to convince 240lb of solid lupine muscle to stop cuddling and go with them. Whenever Tony moves away Steve whines and tries to pull him back, much to everyone’s amusement. Tony tries not to let his heart melt too much, but honestly, it’s  _ Steve _ , there’s never going to be a shape or form in which Tony isn’t in love with him. Even if the current form has rolled onto his back and demanded belly rubs.

Clint has a lot to say about that, leaping out of the way as Natasha tries to put him in a headlock.

SHIELD agents troop in to take away the AIM prisoners, all of them giving Steve a wide berth. Tony doesn’t really get it, sure he’s got teeth bigger than Tony’s little finger, but you only have to look at him to know he’s a huge marshmallow really.

Although there are still blood splatters in his fur from where he tore that guy apart. Right… werewolf, not dog. Tony’s got to remember that.

He’s aware of footsteps coming towards him and then stopping and looks up to see Maria Hill and Bruce standing above him.

“Stark,” Maria says, looking completely unfazed by the fact that Captain America is wiggling on the ground while Iron Man rubs his belly. Tony guesses that you see some pretty weird things when you’re as high up in SHIELD as she is. Bruce, on the other hand, seems just the right amount of fascinated and bemused by proceedings.

“What I don’t get,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses to pinch his nose. “Is how this is even possible. The data from the AIM research shows that, even with the moonstone they were using, their compound shouldn’t have had an effect on a human beyond that of an ordinary steroid - except maybe some mild hair growth. While I’m sure the cosmetology sector would be fascinated by it, it shouldn’t have caused… this.” He gestures at Steve, who rolls back over to stare up at him, then bumps his head into Tony’s hand for more strokes.

Tony’s pretty good at reading people, he has to be given his position, and the look on Maria Hill’s face is so very carefully blank that it has to be hiding something. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?” he asks her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony says. “Now how about you stop toeing the party line and tell me what the fuck you know about what happened to my boyfriend.”

Her jaw works for a second and there’s a twitch of her eye, like she only gets when Tony’s being particularly annoying. Some days, he might let her get away with it and just get JARVIS to break into SHIELD’s servers later to poke around. Today, however, his boyfriend has just been turned into a werewolf, so she’s going to give him answers whether she likes it or not.

Then she opens her mouth and starts talking, and Tony has no idea what to think about anything anymore.

*

The wolf has been enjoying the attention of his mate, and the sweet, thick smell of him. It feels so good to be surrounded by that smell and have familiar hands gently petting at his fur. This is perfect, this is everything he has ever wanted. So many months he has spent trapped in the small metal room, unable to seek out his pack and his mate and now they are here, the quick red-furred one, the loud yellow-furred one, the quiet dark-furred one and his mate.

There are other people around as well, they smell like not-pack and a little like the horrible metal room, but they are staying well away, so the wolf is happy to let them exist. They are not-enemy, but not-pack. He will not bother them as long as they do not threaten him or his pack.

His mate is rubbing at his belly and he whines happily at the sensation, until one of the not-pack comes closer.

The wolf turns over to look at her. He can feel and smell the tension rising in the air, her heartbeat is not quite steady, speeding up as she looks at him. She is not terrified, but there is some fear there.

His mate’s hands pause and he can smell confusion and anger rising up from him. The not-pack are threatening his mate. He bares his teeth, pushing up to stand on all fours and the not-pack steps back. His mate’s voice is rising with words the wolf knows he should understand, but he does not, and his mate goes to step forwards, towards the not-pack. The wolf tries to step in front of him, but his mate is determined and steps between the wolf and the not-pack, protecting the wolf. The wolf presses himself against his mate’s leg in gratitude, still baring his teeth at the not-pack.

“Steve,” he recognises that word as his mate says it, turning to him. That is his word, his name. The wolf is Steve. He rumbles in recognition. “Steve,” his mate repeats, followed by some more of the human words which slowly resolve themselves into meanings. “It’s okay, we’re all safe, you’re safe now,” his mate says. “I’m not angry.” That is a lie; the wolf can smell the anger on him. He whuffs out once and his mate understands. “OK, so I’m a little angry and we are definitely going to talk about you hiding massively important things from me when you’re back on two feet again, but right now you don’t have to worry about that. Can you understand me?” Steve whuffs again and licks his mate across the face. Tony. His mate’s name is Tony.

Tony splutters and reaches up to wipe at his face.

“Maybe keep the french kissing until you’re human again, as well,” Tony suggests, but he’s rubbing at the back of Steve’s head in a spot that feels  _ so good _ and all Steve can do is close his eyes and lean into it, his tail wagging frantically against the floor with a  _ thwack, thwack, thwack _ sound.

He feels like he’s slowly waking up from being asleep, his brain coming online again in fits and starts. He is aware of who he is and who Tony is, but other names are still hanging out of reach.

Steve decides it doesn’t matter and just let’s Tony stroke him some more. It feels good.

*

After about half an hour, Steve seems more aware of who and where he is and he actually lets Tony lead him out of AIM’s creepy basement lair and up to where the SHIELD medical crew are waiting for him, looking utterly terrified.

Tony is at a loss. He doesn’t really know how he feels about any of this. Of course, there’s a part of him that’s annoyed that Steve hadn’t told him, and he’s a little jealous that  _ Maria Hill _ knew more about his boyfriend than he did. He’s still scared that Steve will be stuck like this, although he’s determined that pseudoscience or not, he’s going to work out a way to get him back. He’s angry at himself for not working it out, because now that he’s looking back at it, he knows that Steve has conveniently been ‘on a mission for SHIELD’ over every single full moon since they’ve been together. He hates the idea of what Maria’s told him, about the cell in which Steve paces every full moon, where the wolf howls and throws itself at walls trying to get out - alone.

He looks down at Steve, who is padding along next to him quite calmly, entirely friendly as long as you’re not performing illegal human experimentation. His heart aches for him, trapped there for three nights, unable to see anyone or have anything but four walls for company. That is never going to happen again. He’s already planning an entire reconstruction of their floor just to make a werewolf-friendly room. He wonders if wolves like dog toys, or if Steve would find that insulting.

Steve jumps up onto the gurney and turns around once before lying down, wagging his tail once as though to say ‘look how harmless I am’ as the medical crew move towards him.

Tony watches them like a hawk, unwilling to leave Steve alone with them. If this is the first time they’ve been allowed near him in wolf form, then there’s no telling what they’ll want to do to him. So Tony, back in full Iron Man armour (although that left boot is going to need a lot more fixing) crosses his arms and looks as menacing as he can. He has the distinct impression that Steve is laughing at him, if wolves can even laugh.

“And could you open wide for me , ” one of the examiners asks and then there is a moment of silence as they all discover just how wide Steve’s mouth can open.

There are a lot of teeth in his mouth, Tony thinks a little faintly. He’s very glad that none of that AIM gas managed to reach any of the other werewolves. The medical technician is shaking like a leaf as he puts one hand into Steve’s huge mouth and takes a swap. They are all very aware that all it would take is one bite and that hand would no longer be attached.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” the technician says, pulling his hand back with his prize. Steve wags his tail again and looks over to Tony.

The look, for anyone fluent in Steve Rogers, is clearly one of needing to get the hell out of there. Steve’s never liked hospitals or doctors that much, though he’s always politeness personified. That’s what he has Tony for.

“That’s enough, we’re done here,” Tony says, stepping forwards. Half a dozen voices start to protest. “Nope, we’ve been good little Avengers and let you do your tests, now you’re going to let us go and get some sleep. We neutralised the base, captured all the bad guys, and now it’s your turn to do your jobs. Coming, Cap?” Steve jumps to his feet. Standing on top of the gurney he’s a couple of feet taller than anyone nearby. Strangely, after that, everyone seems to decide that they can go wherever they want.

Steve jumps down and walks over to Tony, shaking like he’s trying to shed the feeling of the doctors prying and poking at him. 

Tony looks at him for a second. Usually when they fly together, Steve is rather more… Steve-shaped. Tony’s not sure how well the hug and fly translates to man and wolf. Steve, on the other hand, seems to have no such qualms. With a heave of muscle, he’s on his back paws, his front feet resting on Tony’s metal pauldrons. 

“That works,” he says, reaching out to pull Steve against him. “Let’s just hope the camera phones aren’t out this early, or we’re going to be fielding questions about the Avengers’ new pet.”

Steve growls a little and Tony chuckles.

“Yeah, you and I know you’re not a pet, but honestly I think ‘WERE-CAP LOOSE IN NEW YORK’ is a headline we’re better off avoiding.”

He sees Maria Hill walking purposefully towards them and quickly fires up the repulsors in his boots before she can corner them with any bullshit about how Steve needs to be put in a cage.

*

Three people get pictures of them on the way back to the tower. Luckily none of them is clear enough to make out what is actually happening, but the conspiracy websites are having a field day. Tony touches down on the platform at the top of the Tower and Steve jumps down, shaking himself again. He looks… a little ridiculous, his fur all windblown this way and that.

“Right,” Tony says. “So… what do you want to do now?”

What Steve wants, it seems, is to curl up on the sofa and watch TV. What Tony wants, is for no blood to get on the sofa, so they compromise by Steve having a bath first. It’s a little different from the night before, given that Tony doesn’t have any dog shampoo, so JARVIS has to order some with quick delivery, and then he spends about twenty minutes lathering it into the thickest fur he has ever seen.

Steve’s tail wags so hard it splashes water and dog shampoo all over Tony, so he ends up soaked as well. He’s probably better off not quitting his job to become a dog groomer.

*

Steve comes back to himself slowly, his instincts pulling him in different directions - although most of those directions are towards Tony - so that it isn’t until they are back at the tower and he’s sprawled over the sofa, tail wagging and Tony’s hand stroking at his fur, that he really understands what is going on.

He had always sworn that Tony would never see him like this - that none of the team would - a monster made up of instinct.

He remembers tearing into that AIM scientist and he remembers the joy that the wolf - that  _ he _ \- had felt at it. He remembers feeling something akin to satisfaction as he had taken that man’s life with his own hands - paws. He can feel the sickness rising in him and, although Tony had bathed him, there is still the taste of blood in his mouth. Steve wonders if he will ever be rid of it.

And Tony had seen it. The others had seen it. They had seen what he becomes. He still  _ is _ that creature. While his instincts seem to be gentle with Tony, he can still feel them there. His mind is sharper, more focused. Things are very clear right now, and Steve knows that he would do it again. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. And what’s worse, what’s so much worse, is that, those feelings of satisfaction? He recognises them. Not from the wolf but from himself. He knows that they are the same feelings he has as he slams his shield into threats and monsters. He tries to smother them, but they are still there. Now, himself inside his wolf self for the first time, he doesn’t know whether he’s ever truly free of the wolf.

“Steve?” Tony says, the words vibrate through him, but Steve does not look up. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “You’ve gone all still and your tail stopped wagging.”

The whine comes from Steve’s throat without his permission, driven by the idea that Tony is right there, that he has seen those parts of Steve that he tries to keep hidden. The worst bits of him. And here he is, stroking him - petting him, like Steve is some sort of pet dog and not a vicious, unnatural animal.

He jumps off the sofa and heads out. He can’t… He can’t even talk right now and he needs to be far away. Far away from Tony and everyone else.

He goes to one of the guest rooms and manages to communicate to JARVIS that he doesn’t want to be disturbed - by  _ anyone _ , and curls up on the bed, letting his head drop despondently between his paws.

*

It takes Tony ten minutes to come after him, because Tony is not the sort of person who leaves things alone. Steve is not safe, right now, he cannot rein in those parts of himself that he always has such tight control over.

“Are you seriously sulking in the guest room right now?” Tony asks through the door. Steve ignores him. It’s not like he could speak even if he wanted to. “Steve - look, this isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to put yourself in the dog house - ha!” Steve’s eyes roll automatically at the bad joke, even as he feels a rush of fondness rise up inside him. “Look, when you’re all you shaped - well, human shaped - again, believe me, you are sleeping on the couch for a week.”

Steve huffs, he knows that Tony never manages to follow through on that threat. 

“But you’re not allowed to skip to the punishment stage without letting me have the yelling-at-you-for-lying-to-me stage.”

Steve whines. He has been lying, and he doesn’t understand why Tony is so  _ alright _ with this. He should be shouting, he should be horrified at what he’s been living with all this time.  _ He saw what Steve did _ . That is not something that the average person would be alright with.

“And you know I never enjoy an argument as much if you’re not there to yell back at me,” Tony says, his voice turning low and cajoling. He sighs. “I don’t know what’s going through that doggy head of yours right now, sweetheart, but whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s wrong. So let’s try this another way. I’m cold and you make a good blanket. You’re fuzzy and warm, so please come back out or else I’ll freeze to death going over the reports that R&D sent me this week.” There is a pause. “I’m going to take silence as agreement, okay?”

Steve barks.

“Ha! You are in there, I knew it!” Tony says. Steve can picture the look on his face. “Can I come in?”

Steve thinks about how Tony will probably just sit out there all day if he doesn’t and nods once. JARVIS opens the door and Tony steps in, swiftly taking in the sight.

“Hey, you know it’s not fair that you get to have actual puppy dog eyes, right?” Tony says. “I mean, they’re already lethal when you’re all human-shaped, no you’re actually lupine, they’re devastating.” He sits on the bed and Steve resists the urge to crawl towards him, but can’t hold back the whine. “I wish I could read your mind right now,” Tony says, then his face falls into his most thoughtful expression. “Huh, do you think I could? I’ve been working on technology that reads brain waves, do you think I could make some sort of pet-telepathy device? I bet it would be a huge seller. Who doesn’t want to talk to their pet?”

Steve pokes him gently with one paw and Tony blinks, turning back to him.

“Right,” he says. “Sorry, distraction. Probably not a good idea, I mean cats are great and all, but I’m pretty sure half the time they’re thinking about murder, so maybe it’s best we leave them to it.”

Tony raises a hand and reaches out to him, but Steve pulls his head away, his heart breaking as he sees Tony’s expression crack.

“Right, I’ll… keep my hands to myself,” Tony says, sitting on them. From experience, they won’t stay there long.

It feels strangely lonely to Steve, although Tony is sitting right there. The gap between them might as well be the grand canyon, it feels so insurmountable.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me,” Tony says, his voice quiet. “I mean, I can make some guesses, but none of them seems right.” He pauses. “Did you not trust me?” Steve lets out a small howl, shaking his head frantically. It’s not that, it’s never that. “Right, right, okay Clifford. So... was it some sort of top-secret thing? Because you usually tell me about those.” That’s not entirely true. Steve usually mentions vague things and Tony breaks the internet until he can piece them together. The fact that this is top secret hadn’t even registered on Steve’s reasons not to tell him. He shakes his head. “Well the only other possibility I’ve come up with is ridiculous,” Tony says. “Because I know you, Steve Rogers, and there’s no way you’d ever be ashamed of what you are.”

Steve drops his head down onto the bed, staring out at the skirting board on the far side of the room, long and white and unfeeling. This whole guest room feels like that - some sort of stasis or holding bay. It’s a bit like when he woke up from the ice in a place that wasn’t really a place.

“Ah,” Tony says. “Steve, look at me.”

Steve will not hide from this. Whatever judgement is in Tony’s eyes he will face down. 

But when he turns to look at Tony, there is no judgement there, just a soft fond look, a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hill said that this was a side effect of the serum,” Tony says. Steve nods, once. He’s not going to lie about this any more. “Do you regret getting the serum?” Steve shakes his head. “Good. I’m kind of fond of it myself,” Tony says, and there’s a twist to his smile that is soft, but behind it there is a spark of something hotter. “Do you think this somehow makes you… less than human?”

Steve feels the question curdle inside him, his stomach roiling with it, because of course Tony sees right through to the heart of it. He can read Steve like a book.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Tony says. Steve blinks at him, then gives his furry limbs a pointed look, raising one foreleg to poke at Tony again. “Right, yeah, okay, so you’re a little four-legged at the moment. I’m pretty sure that’s not what makes you human.”

Tony can’t see inside his head, can’t see the sharp, direct thoughts of the wolf.

“You’re still you,” Tony says. “You know, that expression you’ve got right now is the same one you get when I’ve been joking around in battle with Clint. Every single time. It’s your ‘be serious, Tony’ expression. Tony reaches out a finger and Steve goes cross-eyed following it as it bops him right between the eyes. Same little furrow, right here. “You know, if you were all human shaped right now, you’d be pinching the bridge of your nose and saying ‘ _ Tony _ ,’ exactly like you always do. You’re just as much Steve Rogers when you’re this shape as you’ve ever been.”

That’s not the truth. This is different from other times. At the full moon he isn’t this clear. He’s a mindless beast and he never remembers.

“I looked at the footage from that hellhole SHIELD keeps you in,” Tony says conversationally, as though that is not terrifying. Steve leaps to his feet. Next to Tony, sitting on the bed, he is huge, towering over him, 240lb of monster. But Tony doesn’t seem scared.

“Solitary confinement is fucked up no matter who you are or what shape you are,” Tony says. “That place is 150 different human rights contraventions in one bleak little nightmare. And _ even if you weren’t human _ ,” Tony says, speaking over Steve’s little growl of frustration, still not even remotely scared. “Even if you were just a regular old wolf, that cage is a fucking travesty and any zoo like that should be closed down immediately.

“Steve… I watched all that footage and you know what I saw? I saw my boyfriend trapped in a tiny, featureless, windowless metal room. I’ve been a prisoner, and even I had things to look at, people to talk to, but for three whole days - 72 hours - they trap you up in there and they expect you to what? Be a good boy, sit and stay? Fuck that shit. You wouldn’t stand for that as a human, is it any surprise you don’t stand for it as a wolf?”

Steve wants to say that he isn’t safe, that he’s always got that urge to hunt.

“Steve… you are the most human person I’ve ever met,” Tony says. “I know the propaganda is all about the supersoldier, and maybe Cap’s a bit larger than life. But you, honey? You get mad at me for balling my socks up before I put them in the laundry basket.” Steve huffs, because that is a perfectly reasonable thing to get mad about - they don’t wash properly, they don’t dry, and they stink of damp. “You like those disgusting energy drinks that taste like chemical waste. You collect baseball cards and you get all frowny when I touch them, though you pretend you don’t care. You’ve got a wicked sense of humour that you use to make idiots who try to boss you around look completely foolish. You swear at people on the subway who don’t stand up for pregnant women. You snore. You like to cuddle and you’ll give your life to protect other people. You’ll kill to protect the people you care about. You get angry and sad and horny just like every other person out there.”

Steve looks at him and Tony looks back.

“You really thought I’d care if you spent three days a week shaped like a wolf?” Tony asks. “I mean, I know I’m shallow, but honestly, Steve. It’s like you’ve never met me. If that’s literally the worst thing about you, I think I’m doing pretty well.”

Steve shuffles over, tentatively, and lifts his head onto Tony’s thigh.

He closes his eyes as Tony starts to scratch at that spot just behind his ear, and his tail starts to wag again. Maybe he could get used to this. Maybe.

*

It’s sort of… nice, being a wolf.

That’s a thought Steve never thought he’d have. 

It’s simpler, somehow. His mind is still sharp and he can still see how things work, he still recognises the people he knows, but rather than being a web of thoughts and feelings, everything is more direct. It occurs to him as he jumps onto the sofa and rests his head in Tony’s lap in front of the rest of the team that this is not something he would ever do as a human. The rest of the team know about them, of course, but he keeps contact to a minimum. There are occasional kisses on the cheek and their hands will brush against each other as they pass out coffee or food, and even against their backs as they step into a room or manoeuvre through a sticky social situation. When they sit next to each other on the sofa, his leg will press against Tony’s, their knees a little awkward as they shift and knock together, but never this… in your face.

It’s nice to have Tony’s hand in his fur, stroking across his head, and being surrounded by his scent.

“Wow, he really is just like a big puppy,” Clint says, and Steve realises he has closed his eyes. He opens one of them casually and then very deliberately yawns, looking right at Clint. “Uh, sorry Cap.” Steve settles back down a little smugly. He should be panicking, he knows, but he feels so comfortable.

The instincts are still there, but instead of telling him to batter down doors and rip people’s throats out, now they’re telling him he needs to be closer to Tony - all the time. He follows him to the worktop, curls up next to wherever he sits down, pushes his head onto Tony’s lap. He forgets to monitor himself sometimes and next thing Steve knows, he’s rolling onto his back, legs in the air, demanding belly rubs as his tail wags frantically.

He even lets Clint take him down to the range to catch arrows in midair. It turns out in wolf form, he can jump even higher than when he’s human. It’s exhilarating to leap through the air, catching arrow after arrow in his teeth as Clint aims them higher and higher.

Tony doesn’t seem to mind, though, seems delighted in fact. Steve knows that somewhere in JARVIS’s databanks there’s a folder of pictures of him as a wolf, but he can’t seem to care, even when the other Avengers start taking them on their phones, he barely even growls. He’s too busy having his head scratched.

Yeah… it’s kind of nice.

*

Two days later and things get a bit less nice.

The blaring sound and the flashing lights of the Avengers alarm wake them from their sleep and Tony rolls away from where he’d been wrapped around Steve’s back to sit up, leaving Steve whining a little, until he gets control of himself.

It’s the sound of smashing glass that gets Steve on his feet.

He’s snarling in the direction of the sound immediately, leaping off the bed.

“Steve, wait!” Tony snaps, but Steve’s already out the door, before Tony has the Iron Man suit half on. The instinct to protect his home and pack too strong to ignore.

*

Tony doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he rounds the corner into the living quarters. Being an Avenger means he never really knows what to expect from one day to the next. It turned out his boyfriend is a werewolf, for crying out loud. Once you’ve got to that point, you sort of get used to not knowing what happens next.

What he finds is Steve, in wolf form, on the back of a robot, tearing out a mouthful of sparking wires and servos.

Another five robots are already flying in through the broken window. And Tony starts shooting repulsors at them as Steve pulls away from the one he’d brought down.

It’s different from their usual fights, but that’s mainly because Steve doesn’t have the shield, and couldn’t throw it even if he did. In most other aspects, it’s the same. They move together the same way that they always do, predicting each other’s movement easily and smoothly. Iron Man and Captain America are the same well-oiled team they always are, and by the time the rest of the Avengers get up to the penthouse, the robots are a pile of junk on the floor, good for nothing but spare parts, and Tony is helping JARVIS set up the forcefield to block off the broken window because it’s surprisingly windy on the 93rd floor - who knew?

It takes a couple of hours to clean the place up and it’s only after that that Tony spots that Steve is definitely trying to hide an injury. If he watches carefully, he’s favouring his rear right leg, barely enough to notice, but enough that for Steve it must be agony. Steve would walk over hot coals rather than admit he was having trouble standing up.

In his current form, Steve’s hardly capable of his usual distraction techniques, which mainly involve pointing out that he’s had worse and focusing on Tony’s own injuries. Unable to do more but whine and bark and nudge his nose against Tony’s side, however, he can’t really pull out a patented Captain America speech to make all the boys swoon.

Well, not all the boys, just Tony. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tony says as Steve turns his puppy dog eyes on him. Tony’s getting better at ignoring them the longer this goes on. “Let me see your leg.”

Steve whuffs slightly, giving what might be the lupine version of a shrug, as if to say ‘what leg?’

“The one that’s injured,” Tony says, sitting down and holding out his hand. He’s got the first aid kit on the table, which Steve probably hoped was for himself, but thanks to the armour, Tony got out of this one pretty much uninjured. The wolf who ran right into the battle without any armour on at all, however, didn’t fare so well. Steve cocks his head to one side, it’s adorable, but it’s also an obvious attempt at subterfuge, and Tony just raises his eyebrows, keeping his hand outstretched.

Steve is always like this. He claims the serum means he doesn’t need medical assistance half the time - because painkillers don’t work on him anyway and most minor injuries will be healed by morning. Most of the time he’s right about that, but there are exceptions, and Tony would always feel better knowing that Steve is taking precautions. But Steve wants to distract himself from the pain by being busy. He throws himself into clean up and post-mission briefings and strategy assessments because the alternative is sitting around and just… feeling it. Tony can sympathise, but there’s no way he’s going to let Steve just walk around on a leg that’s obviously hurting.

After a long few seconds of staring at each other, Steve huffs and lies down, offering his injured leg up.

It’s a nasty looking cut, and Tony has to trim the fur just to get a good look at it. The first time he touches the reddened skin on the side of the wound, Steve jerks his leg back, knocking right into what remains of the coffee table.

“Shhh, Snowy,” Tony says. “It’s okay, you know I’m not going to harm you.”

Steve meets his eyes and it is undeniably Steve looking back at him, but there is something about Steve in this form. He can’t hide his emotions as clearly. They seem closer to the surface, and Tony can see the pain and vulnerability there. He strokes a hand down Steve’s flank. “This is probably going to hurt, though. Sorry, Steve.”

Steve barks quietly, resigned, and lowers his head to the floor, closing his eyes. Tony feels like the worst person in the world, because what he’s about to do is going to hurt and it should definitely be a professional doing it, but he knows that Steve’s not going to let anyone else close to him like this.

So he grabs the antiseptic wipes, getting JARVIS to check that they’re okay for use on wolves, and gets to work.

Steve holds perfectly still, even as his breathing gets shallow and he’s biting back whines. Every muscle in his body is rigid and Tony doesn’t doubt that it’s taking every single iota of Steve’s willpower not to move.

What he finds when he cleans away the blood is not encouraging. There’s something under the skin. Tony feels a sympathetic ache in his own chest as he gets JARVIS to run a scan and pull up the results in a hologram. Shrapnel. A little shard of metal is buried in the leg, between the tibia and the fibula, and the muscle is already starting to heal over it.

Tony leans down his hand to pet Steve’s forehead and Steve turns to look at him.

“I’ve got to get this out,” he says and Steve nods, once, firm and quick, before licking at Tony’s fingers, like Tony’s the one who needs the comfort.

He washes his hands, pulls on gloves and gets the laser scalpel he designed himself, then tells himself that his hands aren’t shaking.

Anaesthetics won’t work, but he tries anyway, sticking Steve with a syringe of local, trying to numb the wound site as much as he can. Any slight pain relief has got to be a bonus, right? He hopes so. But the more he delays, the more the serum does its work and heals the leg around the metal. He can’t wait any longer.

He makes it as quick as he can, guided by JARVIS’s diagrams and guidelines. He should definitely not be doing this, but he’s done his own open heart surgery before, so… 

But back then it wasn’t Steve who would suffer if he got it wrong.

It’s not that difficult in the end, just messy and painful. Steve’s whines are muffled, bitten back as though the pain is too much for him to hide completely, and Tony’s going to throw up right after this is done.

He makes the incision, uses the tweezers to pull out the shard of metal, which is barely bigger than a ball bearing, though with jagged looking edges. He can’t imagine how Steve must have felt with that digging into him while his body rehealed around it with every step he walked. Tony drops it into the sink and starts to clean up. Steve’s already healing when JARVIS checks the wound, but they clean it out again. Steve shouldn’t be able to get an infection, but Tony’s not taking any chances. Then he sews up the outer wound. That much, he is at least familiar with.

His hands stay steady for the procedure, but as soon as it’s done, Tony’s shaking like a leaf. Steve’s already trying to get to his feet, turning around no matter how Tony tries to make him stay down. He keeps his wounded leg lifted up and drags himself next to Tony. The bathroom around them is still covered in Steve’s blood as Tony sits on the toilet and shudders. Steve pushes his head into Tony’s lap and they hold onto each other as best as they can.

“I never want to do that again,” Tony says. “Next time you’re going to the hospital.”

Steve doesn’t reply apart from burying his nose in Tony’s stomach.

*

When all the mess is cleared up and the bathroom smells of bleach rather than blood, they curl back up in the bed together, Tony wrapping his arms around Steve and burrowing his face into the thick warm fur of the back of Steves’s neck.

He wakes up in the same position five hours later, only instead of fur, his cheek is touching only smooth skin. He rubs his cheek against it, revelling in the warm, and then it registers in his brain.

Tony starts, sitting up and staring down. Sure enough, it’s Steve, fully human and turning to look at him a little sheepishly.

“Hi sweetheart,” Steve says.

Priorities are important at times like these, so they both take the time to show each other how glad they are that Steve is back in his right body before Tony brings up the whole… werewolf thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks into that still, quiet time when even the afterglow is fading away, and he’s just holding Steve.

“That I was a monster?” Steve asks, and Tony has to push himself up onto an elbow to look down at Steve’s face.

“Never a monster,” he says, He’s so grateful to see those blue eyes in Steve’s own face again, though. Although he supposes they are both Steve’s face.

This one is nicer to kiss, however. So he does so.

“It’s never been like that before,” Steve says. “You know, you said you’ve seen the footage. I was never aware of anything. Maybe it was the full moon, or maybe...” He pauses. “I remember killing that man, in the AIM base. I remember every second of it.”

“Steve... “ Tony says, stroking a hand down his arm, and feeling only smooth, warm skin beneath his palm. Steve looks lost and far away.

“I enjoyed killing him, Tony,” Steve says. “I remember it and I remember that I… that I enjoyed it.”

“He was a threat,” Tony says. “And you were acting on instinct.”

“You’ve seen the footage, Tony. The wolf is a monster.”

“I have, but I still think that’s got more to do with the scenario than the person in the scenario,” Tony says.

“The wolf isn’t a person,” Steve tells him stubbornly.

“The wolf is you and you’re a person, therefore the wolf is a person,” Tony tells him. “I can’t imagine ever being frightened of you. You’re a good man. I’m sure you’re an equally good wolf.”

“If the wolf is me, then… does that mean I’m a monster, too?” Steve asks, his voice far away.

  
“No,” Tony says. “He’s you, just with fewer inhibitions. You’d never normally lie with your head in my lap in front of the others.”

“Well, no,” Steve agrees.

“But you would stop a threat to innocent lives,” Tony says. “That’s who you are.”

“I’m not-” Steve closes his eyes, breathing out heavily through his nose. “It feels like there’s such a fine line there, between me and losing control.”

“You are the most controlled person I know,” Tony says. “You’re always so aware of your strength. I’ve seen you with children - and with me. You’re not going to step over that line, Steve. And neither will your other half. We just need to work out a better way of containing you - and definitely making you a bit happier. And… that’s the secret of humanity, I suppose. We all want to hurt people sometimes. We’ve all got that line, but choosing not to cross it, that’s what makes you a good person.” He waits there, in the quiet, trying to let that sink in. Then he asks the question he’s been wanting to ask. “What was… what is it like?”

“I’ve never been so myself before,” Steve tells him, tracing patterns idly on the back of Tony’s hand, where it rests against the hard plains of Steve’s stomach. “All I ever knew before was the feeling of wanting to be let free - the need to find something. The need to hunt. I thought it was for blood or sport or… I don’t know.” Steve shakes his head, then laces his fingers with Tony’s. “I thought I wanted to hunt and kill, but I think that maybe I was looking for you.”

“That is unbearably sweet,” Tony says. “I’m really not sure how to take that.” Steve smiles, his sweet soft smile and tilts his face towards Tony for a kiss. He seems less troubled now, and Tony keeps up the soothing motion of his hand.

“It’s not just you,” Steve says. Tony makes a face. “I think it was the others as well. I didn’t- when I was the wolf, I didn’t like being alone. Have people I knew around me - like a family - it made me more myself.”

“Even Clint?” Tony asks, making a face. Steve laughs and Tony smiles delightedly at having won that small chuckle.

“Even Clint,” Steve says. “Seeing you all, knowing I was safe with you and you were all safe, that helped.”

“Well, now I know, we can work on that,” Tony says. “I mean, that cell is a travesty. You need someplace you can move. Some enrichment activities. Somewhere safe to go, so you’re not scared and angry and alone.”

“Tony.”

“No,” Tony says, cutting off whatever reasonable thing Steve is going to say. He’s been planning this for days. He has  _ ideas _ . “I make things, I fix things, that’s what I do. I can fix this for you. Let me fix this for you.”

“I’m not sure even you can fix m-”

“No,” Tony says, pressing his fingers over Steve’s mouth. “You’re not broken. You’re perfect. I’m not going to fix you - I’m going to fix the situation. Obviously SHIELD has no idea how to take care of a wolf. Naturally you’re never going back there again. I’ve got a spare floor here in the tower, we can remodel it a bit, make an indoor park or something, it can double as research into botanical development, sustainable plant use and climate change. The board will love it. Good for PR, and also for the planet. Really I should have been doing it already. I’m behind the curve. You can just… happen to use it for a few days every month. JARVIS can make sure you’re not disturbed.”

“Tony.”

“It’s got to be better than what you have now,” Tony says, stroking Steve’s hair away from his forehead.

“If I get out-” 

“Given how cuddly you are when you’re all wolf shaped, I doubt you’ll go anywhere other than up here to see me,” Tony says. “And JARVIS will stop that from happening. We have a Hulk containment centre; keeping Clifford the big, blond wolf indoors won’t even be a problem.”

He sees the moment Steve gives in, the softening around his eyes. He looks amazed, like he never thought he would be offered a chance like that, and it makes Tony’s chest ache all over again. Steve always seems so surprised when someone does something just for him and it makes Tony want to give him the world - although he knows Steve would never let him. He can do this, though. They’ve got what? Three weeks or so to get things set up? Easy.

“If you’re sure,” Steve says hesitantly, as though he feels like he’s asking for too much. Tony’s never going to be able to convince him there’s no such thing as too much.

“I’m sure,” he says, then kisses him, long hard and deep.

*

It’s amazing how quickly you can set up an indoor park when you’ve got a billion dollars to spend and a reputation for being generous with your completion bonuses. Of course, even with a billion dollars, plants take time to grow, but the place looks like it will grow into itself.

Acting on instinct, Tony fills the little den they’ve made for Steve with some old clothes of his. Three weeks is also enough time to become an expert on wolves, even if zoology is a squishy science. Wolves can pick up scents from a mile or two away, although Steve’s new floor is especially set up with air filters. But Tony’s testing a hypothesis.

Sure enough the cameras pick up that, although suspicious at first, Steve seems to love the new den. There are no cameras inside it - Tony means to let Steve have some privacy, even though he’d argued against it.

There are no signs of aggression, and that’s why Tony decides to test another of his theories.

“Sir, are you sure that this is a good idea?” JARVIS asks as Tony steps into the elevator.

“I’ve got the armour, J,” he says with a wave of his hand. “And we’ve upgraded it since last time. Even supersoldier wolves shouldn’t be able to get me out of this in a hurry.”

“If you say so, sir.”

*

The wolf sniffs the air. Something has changed.

There is a scent of metal and ozone on the air, a familiar scent. It spikes inside him, bringing up that old familiar urge to hunt.

He leans down to sniff at the nest he has made of the mate-smelling fabric, and yes, there it is, the same scent. Not as strong, but still there.

He pokes his nose out of the den and looks around.

A metal person stands in the corner, almost hidden behind the trees and bushes, but there is no mistaking that smell. He stalks towards it.

The wolf does not approach directly. This place is better than the last place, there is room to move and things to sniff and food appears from the ceiling, but it is still new, and the wolf is still alone.

So it keeps a safe distance, pacing around the newcomer, slowly zigzagging towards them.

“Hello Steve,” the metal man says, and the wolf whines. The name is his, he knows that. The voice is strange, but familiar.

Slowly, the wolf approaches, sniffing at the metal legs. It remembers this, it remembers this shell and its tail starts to wag as it remembers what’s inside and paws at the metal. Inside is what he is chasing.

A heavy metal hand pets at his head and the wolf whines. The shell needs to go.

“Look at you,” the metal man says. “I told you you were a giant puppy.”

Steve pushes himself up so his forelegs are resting on metal shoulders and prods at the metal head with his nose.

There is a  _ whoosh _ and the metal face of the shell peels back. Suddenly the air is flooded with the rich, strong scent of his mate and Steve howls in delight, before licking excitedly at his mate’s face in greeting.

“Yeah, yeah…” his mate - Tony - says. “Did you miss me?”


End file.
